A Place in the Sun take two
by Seoid
Summary: Now that Sunnyhell is a crater, where will Willow find her home? Galadriel has an idea... (LOTRBTVS xover)
1. Prologue and Chapter 2

Author: Seoid

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Spoilers: Through Season 7 Buffy. All 3 books AND movies just to be safe. Where Angel the Series is concerned, this is an AU fic- the Oracles are alive and working.

A/N: dialogue in 'single quotes' is mind-speak. "Doubles" are aloud.

**Prologue**

Galadriel was climbing the stairway that lead to the chamber she shared with Celeborn when she felt it. Something had happened. She glanced at Nenya, the ring she bore on her finger, and her elven heart dropped- the stone was flashing blood red. That was when she knew.

Galadriel rushed up the rest of the stair and threw open the door to find Celeborn sitting in a wooden chair. He looked up in alarm. 'What is it?' he asked in their fashion of mind-speak.

'Mithrandir,' Galadriel replied. 'He is nearing danger- deadly danger.'

Celeborn frowned in confusion. 'How do you-'

'Nenya,' Galadriel interrupted. 'Mithrandir and I are both bearers of the 3 rings. My love, I fear if something is not done, he will perish.' She sank down to sit on the bed.

Celeborn moved to embrace her. 'He set out from Imladris not long ago. We shall send Haldir to intercept the travelers. Surely he will be able to protect Mithrandir.'

But Galadriel shook her head. 'No, if elvish power was all that was needed, Legolas Greenleaf is already there. I am afraid his power will not be enough to stop anything a wizard cannot handle.'

'Then what?' Celeborn asked, frustrated. 'If Haldir and Legolas and Mithrandir are no use, truly he is doomed. Unless… you do not propose to aid him yourself?'

'No,' Galadriel answered sadly, 'Neither I nor Nenya may leave Laurelindorean for a long time.' She sighed with the sadness of the elves. 'We must seek help from The Others. There are many in our Sister World who are champions. We will implore their aid.'

'The Others?' Celeborn snorted incredulously. 'We have not relied on them since The Beginning. Do you think they will even help?'

'They must,' Galadriel said resignedly.

**Chapter 1.** Short Goodbye to a Long Friendship

Willow inhaled deeply and rose from her kneeling position. Her morning centering exercises completed, her newly-found peace of mind focused on one thing: breakfast.

She pulled on a sweater (less fuzzy than in her high school days) and made her way down the hall to the kitchen that she was temporarily sharing with the Scoobies in L.A.

Willow greeted the just-woken Buffy as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Good morning, Buffy," she said. "How'd the Cleveland update go last night?

Buffy smiled at her friend. "It was okay. Giles gave me the usual story: the troops are fine, he's fine, everyone's fine. Then Kennedy got on the phone and told me the truth."

"Which was…?" Willow asked. The redhead no longer minded hearing about her former lover. Their relationship had been based on danger and passion; the heat of battle, not knowing if you would live to see the next day. After the war with the First had ended, they just didn't really work and had decided to end it. Of course, the fact that the brunette was miles away in Cleveland with the other slayers helped ease the breakup.

"Oh, you know," Buffy said. "The same as last time. 'It's crazy here, we have no idea how to do this, and we need a real slayer. Blah blah blah.'" The blonde smiled dryly.

Willow laughed. "Sounds like it's pretty urgent. I'll admit, taking a break here in LA has been great. We haven't really rested like this, well, ever! But, just the same, Cleveland sounds nice, you know? You'd have a purpose again. Those girls look up to you."

"I know," Buffy sighed. "And, I love being here, with you and Xander, and Dawn-"

"And Angel?" Willow teased. "I know what you mean, though. It's like high school again. Even Cordy and Wesley are here!" The girls fell silent as they remembered their shared past. To Willow and Buffy both it seemed that a lifetime, not a few years, had passed.

Willow broke their reverie. "You know I can't go with you to Cleveland, Buffy."

The Slayer looked closely at her friend. "What do you mean? We all agreed to meet Giles next week. Where else would you go?"

"I don't know where I'll stay," Willow began. "Look, Buffy, when I activated the Potentials, that was it. I knew then that that was what I was put on this earth to do. A new age is coming, an age of slayers that I have no place in. It's for you, and Giles, and even Xander. But not me. I'm different than you now. I've been tainted, I've killed, and I've done more than I ever imagined I could. I still need to make up for my past."

"I think I understand," Buffy said slowly. "You've been acting strangely since Sunnydale. I would love nothing more than to have you by my side on the new Hellmouth, but I know you have your own thing. I really do understand."

Willow looked at her best friend with tears in her eyes. "Thanks Buffy. I love you."

The two hugged and Buffy said, "Wait, you mean you're leaving now?"

"Maybe. I've already said goodbye to Xander and Dawn. I'm going to see Angel now, I think he may be of some help to me. Goodbye, my friend."

Willow turned and left the house. An hour later Dawn got up to find her sister sitting at the table with two mugs of cold coffee.

**Chapter 2 Meeting the Powers**

Willow stared at the swirling black door in front of her with a mix of fear and suspicion. Angel had told her to seek out the Oracles, to find meaning in her life. She couldn't understand why the Powers had given her such strength, when she only seemed to use it to screw up. Angel had gone through a similar dilemma, wondering why he had been brought from Hell, and why he had been allowed to live. He said reassurance and direction from the Oracles helped immensely. Of course, their message was also a source of great confusion.

Willow gulped as she picked up a foot to step inside. "Angel, you had better hope this is the right place," she muttered. Mentally making a note to hide his hair gel for not warning her about big scary doorways, she entered. She immediately felt warm sunlight on her skin, and heard water trickling in the distance. Looking around, she saw two figures quickly approaching. Something inside told her not to run.

Each figure had angelic golden hair, but the woman's was longer and curlier. The man beside her was, if possible, equally as beautiful as she. The man spoke first. "Who are you to have entered our realm?" He spoke with a frown on his face, which looked to Willow to be a permanent feature.

"She is Willow," spoke the woman. Her voice reminded Willow a bit of Drusilla, but somehow with more weight to her words. It felt as if the golden-haired lady was looking into her, searching for something. "She is the witch from the mouth of Hell."

"I've done some bad stuff," Willow stuttered. Her 21 years of age disappeared in their presence and she felt like an insecure teenager again, but her voice gained courage with every word. "But I want to make up for it. I need your guidance."

"Like the vampire, you have much to atone for," said the man. He too stared hard at her, and Willow wished for something to hide behind, or for someone else to enter that big swirly door to take the attention off her. "But it is not for us to give forgiveness. That task is given to the Powers That Be. Only they may decide whether you have proven your worth." He turned away from her. Willow felt that his stony back was worse than the piercing glare. Her eyes moved to the woman Oracle.

"Perhaps there is something we can do," she said. Then for many minutes the Oracles gazed into one another's eyes and it seemed to Willow that they were having an intense conversation.

Finally, the male said to Willow, "We cannot give you forgiveness." Willow's heart fell, and she lowered her eyes. "However," he added, "we can give you a chance to redeem yourself."

"Your task on this earth has ended," the other Oracle said. "Activating the slayers is a task that will not soon be forgotten. But there is another task that you were meant for, it seems, but not in this realm. Do not be afraid." And with those words the Oracles spread their arms and Willow saw a bright vortex open below her feet just before she fainted.


	2. Chapters 3 & 4

**Chapter 3 The Fellowship**

Legolas made his way over the path leading to the Golden Wood using his ears and other senses. His eyes were shut; he did not want to open them and look upon the sun happily shining when one he loved had been taken away so suddenly. Still, he could feel the heat on his face, and longed for the cool, deep shadows of Lothlorien. Had Aragorn not been following closely behind him, he would have halted and grieved for days. The elf knew his friend was hurting inwardly just as badly for the loss of Gandalf, and was grateful for the strength he was giving to the rest of the Fellowship.

Legolas heard a movement in the trees next to him and reluctantly opened an eye. There was something following them.

"I have the eyes of a hawk," Gimli boasted, "And the ears of a fox!" No sooner had the words left his lips did the dwarf stumbled over a large object in his path and fell forward onto his face.

"And apparently, the grace of an oliphaunt!" an icy voice said. "Lower your weapons." A tall blonde elf stepped through a gap in the trees onto the dirt road. A dozen more elves entered the path with raised bows, arrows at the ready. Legolas recognized them as Galadriel's kin. The leader elf opened his mouth to mock the dwarf further, but was interrupted by a painful groan.

Willow frowned as she lifted her head. She rubbed her eyes. Her mouth was sticky- as if she had woken up after sleeping in for too long. And there was dirt under her- that wasn't what she remembered. There had been grass below her feet before. This dirt, though, felt…different. The magic coming from it wasn't the same as before. It was as if the earth had become kinder. Not gentle or weak, but powerfully good. It no longer had the 'teeth' she had felt in England. The earth here had not yet been fully corrupted.

Her logical brain soon remembered what the Oracles had said. Those vague, mean, pretty Oracles. "Your task on this earth has ended". So, it appeared there was another earth for her now. Oh yes, there was definitely going to be some Angel-hurtage in her future. But then she remembered there probably wouldn't be an Angel in her future. She had a brief moment of loneliness- she had no idea where she was, or what the Powers wanted her to do. That feeling was set aside for panic when her sleepy mind told her there were voices near by- voices that were coming closer!

As the witch began to pull herself up, an extremely heavy and sharp Something smacked into her. A Something that fell on her and was not getting off any time soon. She tried to push it off her, and did so with a loud groan. The Something seemed to take a hint and scrambled to its feet. The feet were encased in worn-out brown leather boots. Willow decided now would be a good time to sit up and figure out where she was.

Looking around, Willow saw the grass, trees, and a blue sky. She was going to take a guess and say 'forest'. Except, there were men standing around her, some quite strange looking, like the short bearded man who looked like he belonged in a fairy tale. She couldn't remember Sunnydale forests having too many of those in them. Twisting her upper body sideways, even more men entered her field of vision. Or, not men. They were the size of children, but with older bodies and faces. Each looked as if they could use a nice long bath and a fashion update. She may not be Cordelia, but Willow was pretty sure leather jerkins went out a few centuries ago.

Willow rationalized that the kid-folk might be the better to speak to, rather than the stern pretty-haired guys. She stood up, the movement causing the bowmen to aim their arrows towards her. Immediately freezing, Willow ventured to give a little wave, showing she was weaponless. "Hi. I didn't mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me?" she ended her query with a tentative smile.

For a few seconds she debated whether to try French- after all, she wasn't on Star Trek, and what were the chances that these people spoke her English? Luckily, one of the more normal looking men- if not a little scruffier than she was used to- broke the silence. "I am sorry, Miss, but I am afraid we have no help to give. Perhaps you could ask these hospitable elves, at whose mercy we are." His voice was tinged with sarcasm. Not towards her, she realized; his blue-eyed gaze had been much too kind- if a bit wary. But she saw the way he frowned towards the ones with the weapons.

Willow's head sharply turned to the blonde men once again, wincing as it sent tendrils of pain up her back. Elves? She had never pictured them to be so tall and beautiful. And, she wondered at the absence of the females. _Probably too delicate to wield a bow,_ she thought with an indignant frown. Well, at least she had a little more of an idea of the world she was in. It also began to explain the magical energy of the earth, the vortex, and all the leather clothing- but nothing to give her a hint about her mission. She realized the attention was no longer focused on her, but that the two groups were having some kind of silent face-off. Finally, the one she took to be the leader of the elves bristled and said curtly, "We will take you to Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood. She will decide your fate for trespassing. However, the dwarf must be blindfolded."

The dwarf-Willow thought he was the dwarf in question- let out a bark of anger. "Ridiculous! A dwarf has not betrayed an elf in hundreds of years! It is an insult!"  
"Gimli is right," an elf spoke from the rear of the group. Willow had assumed he was one of the aggressive elves, but upon examining at him, she realized it was obvious his allegiance was with the others. This elf wore dirty clothing of much less finery. His hair, unlike the first elves, had been braided so that it fell away from of his face, revealing intense blue eyes and high cheekbones. He did carry a bow and quiver, but had lowered it along with his companions. "This display of mistrust is not true to the Lady's ways. Surely all animosity between our kinds is long over!"

"Do not presume to know the lady's mind," Mean Elf snapped. "He will not be allowed to see the path, so that leaves two options. Accept the blindfold, or leave him behind."

"There is a third option," the scruffy man interrupted. "Gimli is one of the Fellowship. Any injustice shall be shared by all of us, for I refuse to let him suffer alone."

"Me too," Willow broke in. The arguing men turned to her in surprise- she was a little surprised herself. Standing out on purpose had never been her trademark, but something in her told her it was better to go along with this "Fellowship" than the band of snooty elves.

She gave the bearded man a smile despite the fact he was the reason her back ached. "What I mean, is, I don't like to see anyone discriminated against because of their differences. Hello, Jewish lesbian witch here!" At their blank stares, she waved her hand dismissively- then realized what she had just said. Willow looked around cautiously- she didn't know how they treated witches or the supernatural in this new world. To cover up, she quickly changed the subject. "Where are we going?" She was surprised to hear two of the midget-men let out laughter. The other two glared at them, and they quieted.

"To Lothlorien, lady," the dwarf said, stepping towards her. It appeared she had made a friend. "Though I wonder if we will ever get there at this pace!"

The odd-looking band was eventually blindfolded and led under the cover of golden-leafed trees. Willow was relieved to find that the elves guided her steps faithfully and she didn't make a fool of herself by tripping. Fifteen minutes passed quickly, with Willow's inquisitive mind taking in every scent, sound, and bump. She heard light footfalls approaching them, and a voice spoke out: "Haldir! The Lady Galadriel says to clear our guests' eyes and bring them to her hall."

There was silence for a moment- then Willow felt her soft blindfold loosen. She took in a sharp breath as her view widened- she had never imagined anything so beautiful; enormous trees were everywhere, and elegant elves walking between them on tall winding staircases. Twilight had fallen and lamps were lit, illuminating the golden leaves above. An elf motioned to one stairway in particular, and Willow noted it was empty. With a much lighter heart, she began to climb it.

**Chapter Four: An Introduction to Lothlorien**

The climb up the long winding staircase, surprisingly, did not leave Willow as out of breath as she would have guessed. The first ten minutes of the climb was spent talking with Gimli, the dwarf whom she had tripped. After she expressed an interest in all his armor, he had started a stream of conversation that rivaled even her own skill at speaking without pause. Willow learned the names of each of his companions, the Fellowship, and that the little men were known as hobbits. One hobbit, Pippin, kept trying to break into the conversation, but Gimli always cut him off. The dwarf also told her they were in Lothlorien, the Golden Wood. He began a tale of the Witch of the Wood, but at the hostile looks of the elves leading them, and even a glare from Aragorn- Gimli's friend- he fell silent. The armor was weighing him down, he told her, and anyway, "Dwarves aren't made for stair-climbing." He said it as if anything that dwarves were not made for was a thing to be despised, and their conversation was ended for the rest of the trip.

However, the lack of conversation left her mind free to wander- and it was becoming increasingly more worried.

Looking around at the strangely beautiful trees, it became more clear and more shocking that she had no idea where she was, or where she was going. For the first time in Willow's life, she was completely among strangers. That thought hadn't occurred to her when she had gone before the oracles. Sure, she knew she was giving up living with her friends, but now the full meaning of that hit her. Willow decided to take comfort that the others didn't know where they were being lead either. The tall, blondish man- Boromir-, and Gimli were looking at the scenery with highly suspicious faces, as if the golden leaves were about to jump off the trees and strangle them. The dark, scruffy man-Aragorn- however, looked almost at peace- as if it were a homecoming of sorts for him. The small hobbits took everything in with a mix of curiosity and wonder, except for one, Frodo. His bright blue eyes were downcast, uncaring or unaware of the surroundings.

Willow's eyes drifted to the lone elf of the group, and found she could not look away. Legolas, Gimli said his name was, and at the time it had taken a good two minutes to realize the dwarf was still speaking. He was extremely pretty, yet stirred none of the soft, gentle feelings her former female lovers had produced. No, the feeling she got from him was completely- she shook her head at her turn of thoughts and pried her eyes away. Their destination had just come into view.

It was not a room, exactly, but an open platform of smooth wood. Despite having no walls, it seemed private and small. Willow wasn't sure they would all fit, but she realized most of the elves leading them were returning down the staircase. She noticed a movement in front of her, and two figures suddenly appeared, as if they had been brought into focus. Willow let out a gasp- it was the two Oracles! They were wearing different clothing, but their faces and demeanor were the same, nonetheless. Again searching for her companions' reactions, she found much the same. Aragorn and Legolas seemed to be greeting the Oracles like old friends- though none spoke. Gimli, Boromir, and the hobbits looked frightened.

"Welcome," the man spoke. "I am Celeborn, and with Galadreil I rule this wood. Why have you travelers entered our home?" He seemed to be addressing the men, so Willow decided to stay silent. She wasn't sure what to say anyway- she had expected them to know why she was here, and give her an assignment or something. Surely she was there because they had asked?

But the woman interrupted before the travelers could explain. "Nine set out, yet I see only 8," she said in a low voice.

Celeborn gave her a strange look. "There are nine here, lady," he said. Willow straightened up indignantly. _That's right_, she thought. Why wouldn't they assume she was with the others? Looking at her clothing, however, she could see why Galadriel would think that. While leather and dirt seemed to be the fashion among the travelers, and silky, mesmerizing green fabrics common in Lothlorien, her jeans and t-shirt fit neither style. Although her boots, which she had taken to wearing during their fight with the First, did seem to match the Fellowship's. Even her hair stood out! One hobbit's locks were a rusty-brown, but none of the others came close to being a redhead.

Galadriel shook her head. "No, she is not of them, nor of us. She is our answer." Her eyes lingered on Willow for a few moments, then turned back to the man. "Do you not recall, Celeborn, that Mithrandir was among the Fellowship?" The two looked at each other, and again Willow had the feeling that these two beings were speaking in a place she couldn't hear.

With a frown, Celeborn turned to the Fellowship. "Where is Mithrandir?"  
Again, Galadriel answered for the group. "He has fallen into shadow." This time her voice was so soft, Willow had to strain to catch it. It was said with such sorrow that Willow wondered who this Mithrandir was. At the sadness on the group's faces, she guessed he was a friend of theirs too.

"You cannot stay here long," Galadriel said, breaking their silence. "My woods will not hold the enemy off forever. But you may stay for some nights." Then she looked at each person in turn, and Willow was amazed at their reactions. Boromir sweating and looked about to run. Sam looked ready to cry, and even Legolas' expression had changed to wary. Galadriel held Frodo's gaze the longest, then turned to Willow. She heard speech, then realized the blonde woman was speaking in her mind, much like the way she and Buffy had communicated during their last months in Sunnydale.

But it seemed Galadriel did not have much to say. 'Meet me tomorrow night. We must speak openly then.'

Speaking aloud now, Galadriel dismissed them all. "You may rest from your journey tonight," she said. "I am sure you are hungry and in need of a soft bed. My people will show you the way."

It was as if a spell had been broken. Willow was once again aware of the trees around her, as well as her stomach- how long had it been since that breakfast with Buffy? It seemed days! Blonde elves were now returning up the staircase, and she and the group were escorted back to the forest floor below. Willow wondered where she would stay. She was already feeling attached to the group- Gimli's odd mix of friendly aggression, and the hobbits' eagerness to talk. And, the temptation to hang around Legolas some more didn't hurt. She hoped they wouldn't mind her tagging along.

Willow quickened her pace when she heard a hobbit mention dinner. She didn't want to fall behind if they were on their way to food!


	3. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 A Night in Lothlorien**

Legolas looked sideways at the group next to him. It was amazing the changes in his companions: When Gandalf had fallen, not a one had any hope left, not even Aragorn. Legolas truly believed the only reason his friend took them to Lothlorien was because it was all he knew to do. There was no plan, no hope of going on, just the one thought: _Gandalf was coming here, and that's all I can do_. Aragorn had done his best, but despite his resolve the Fellowship had been falling apart. Frodo had looked ready to die, the grief of his life-long friend's end immobilizing him. And Legolas had kept himself going by the sheer thought that he would rather die in Lothlorien than in orc country.

But, this newcomer, this Willow-Tree girl, had somehow made them forget all that. No, not forget, he amended. They were healing. They were accepting and moving on. In her strange language, they were "dealing". She was sitting in the middle of their Fellowship, regaling them with stories of the food in her land, which sounded different from the elvish feast they were recovering from, although much more varied. He was especially curious about 'pizza'.

Her presence made them all feel less burdened, with her red hair shining- a color that was completely new to Legolas, yet not unnatural. More like an earth color, like copper. Legolas smiled to himself. Perhaps that was why Gimli was so taken with this new stranger. The dwarf liked metal-colors, such as Galadriel's golden hair. Oh yes, his new friend had changed his mind about the "Witch of the Wood"! He had even promised to call nothing fair except her- not even his precious mithril!

Their merriment was paused when a beautiful song came drifting through the woods. No one had felt like singing since Mithrandir had died, not even the normally raucous Pippin and Merry. Legolas knew, however, that this was a different kind of song. This was music that soothed the soul by letting out all the pain and suffering it was feeling. It was a paradox, but an important one.

"What are they saying?" Sam asked, always curious about the elves.

"It is a song for Mithrandir," Legolas replied.

"Who is Mithrandir?" Willow asked nervously. She didn't want to upset them even more, but her curiosity overpowered her manners. She had learned that someone close to them had died, and that they missed him terribly. She could see it in their faces, although some of it had passed with food and talking. She recognized their expressions now- she had seen it far too often. After Buffy died, there were times when they would forget their grief, and push it to the side. Xander would instinctively crack a joke, or Dawn would do some klutzy thing, and before they knew it, they were all laughing. When they had realized that they were actually feeling something other than sorrow, each had felt guilty and a renewed sadness. The renewed sadness was what she saw on the remaining members of the Fellowship.

At first no one answered. Then Aragorn, always the leader, said, "He was many things to many people. To me he was a best friend, and a teacher." He said no more. He was remembering the adventures they had gone on together- many unpleasant and dangerous, but always made bearable by his friend's presence.

"He was a wizard!" Sam burst out. He had needed to talk about his grief for a while, and it came out suddenly and awkwardly, in his own fashion. "He had the most incredible fireworks you ever seen. He'd pop in every year or so, and life would be diff'rent. People said he was a troublemaker, and I guess he was, in his own way, because once you got involved your life was never the same, but not in a bad way. Sort of like this adventure that we're on now. If it weren't for him, I wonder what we'd all be doing right now. Not that I wish for anything different, mind you..." He trailed off, not sure how to put into words how he felt.

Willow was intrigued, however. "A wizard? You mean magic and things?"

"Yeah," said Pippin, the youngest hobbit. "Only he wouldn't do it all the time. I hardly ever saw him do real spells and stuff, but somehow you knew he was capable magic things."

"Sort of like Mr. Elrond," mused Sam. "I never saw him do a spell or nothin', but you could tell just by lookin' at him he was magical."

"Elrond?" Willow queried.

"Elrond," said Legolas, "is an elf, and the lord of Rivendell."

"So there are more places for elves? I thought Lothlorien was their home," Willow said. She wanted to learn everything she could about this strange place. She didn't know her task yet, and so couldn't predict what would come in handy later. A part of her hoped that the task was staying with the elves in this peaceful place.

Legolas laughed, and was happy to tell her more about his people- a more comfortable subject than their beloved Mithrandir. For a time, the grief had passed. He paused as he was describing Mirkwood- he realized they had never asked the name of her land.

Willow hesitated, then answered, "A city called Sunnydale. And it is very different from here."

"I have traveled far," Aragorn said, "but I have never heard that name. Where is it?"

The witch wasn't sure what to say, so she explained as she would to any person in her world. "I suppose it's west from here, though I'm not sure where here is. Near the ocean, I guess." She spoke of her home with such emotion that even the inquisitive hobbits did not push further. And Legolas felt a dangerous pull to his heart at the word _ocean_, and he too did not wish to pursue the topic.

The gay mood was somewhat lessened, though they were all grateful for each other's company. The hobbits settled down for bed, but Willow did not feel tired. She noticed that Legolas was not moving to the sleeping area either.

"Not sleepy?" She asked.

"Elves do not sleep," he replied.

"I hadn't realized how powerful elves are, to not feel exhaustion," she said with a raised eyebrow.

He smiled. "We feel tired, Willow, but we do not need to close our eyes to recover. I will walk under the _mallorn_ trees for a while, and that is all the rest I need. And, as I do feel tired now, I must leave you for a time. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Legolas," She said. She was sad to end their night—she had been hoping to have more time alone with him, to get to know him better, that Prince of Mirkwood.

Looking around, she noticed that nearly everyone was asleep. Only Boromir and Aragorn were awake. She noticed that the blond man was lying down, but his eyes were open and he kept turning over in his blanket. Aragorn was sitting against a tree trunk, but he looked so peaceful and full of thought that she did not have the heart to interrupt him. Oh well, she thought. I'll have to make my own fun.

She looked around her, and was surprised to see Galadriel standing some feet away, staring at her. The beautiful elf was gazing at Frodo, who had woken up and was staring back. She shook her head and made a gesture, indicating he should wait, and go back to sleep. Then she turned to Willow, and beckoned her with her hand. Willow followed her through the forest to a clearing. The treetops were bare here, and she could see stars and a brilliant moon above her. The stars, she noticed, were the same as hers. Above, she could see Orion's Belt. Willow smiled at the familiar sight.

"Now," Galadirel said, "We shall talk."

"Do you know why you are here?" Galadriel asked.

Willow looked at the tall elf with wonder. In the stars she seemed to glow with a strange light, and she had the sense that Galadriel was reading her mind. She felt she could trust this woman with the truth. "I think," she said slowly, "that you called me here. Is that right?"

Galadriel nodded. "You are from a different world than ours. That is good, as those in our world have failed." Willow felt nervous at these words. Failed? If this world had people like Aragorn and Legolas (who seemed quite capable) what did they need her for? "A war is brewing in our world," she continued, "and there is a great man who must lead it. However, he is engaged in a battle that he cannot win alone. I want you to go and aid him."

Willow wanted to protest- a battle did not sound like her best chance of helping. The fighting was more of Buffy's thing. Yes, she did have over seven years of Hellmouth fighting under her belt, but that didn't make her a kung-fu master or anything. If this "great man" couldn't win alone, who was she to help?

However, the Powers That Be thought she had something that could help, and she agreed. "I'll do my best. How do I get there? And will I need to bring anything?"

Galadriel laughed. In many ways this woman seemed as a child to her- so young compared to her elf-years, and at times carefree. But her resolve to do help a complete stranger raised her in her eyes. This woman was the one. She could feel such a strong magical force coming from her. It was as if she and the earth had a direct link, connecting her to its power. She knew only a pure soul could do that. Not _pure_, she corrected. Perhaps good was a better word, or hopeful. The earth itself was not pure. It could be polluted and broken, but it healed itself. And she could tell this girl-woman in front of her had been polluted as well, and was trying to heal herself. "I suppose you would call him by his Western name: Gandalf," she told her, knowing she hadn't even asked for the name of whom she was going to save. "He is deep within a mountain, deeper than any man has gone before. I will call for an eagle to carry you to him."  
An eagle to _carry _her? Willow was once again struck by how odd this world really was. She had just gotten used to the fact that there were elves and dwarves and hobbits here.

"I have some things for you." Willow noticed there was a large bad next to the elf. In it were a cracker-like food, a thick grey coat made of a fabric she had never seen before, and snow boots.

"Now I will call for Gwahir. In the meantime, you must rest. You have a great task ahead of you, and you will leave as soon as possible." She placed her hands on Willow's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "You can do this," she said firmly.

Willow nodded, then, on an impulse, embraced this great woman.

"I will try," she whispered.

(end chapter)

A/N:...Thank you, those who have read this far! I am so excited, this is turning out to be a longer story than I've written before. I hope to have the enext part written in the next week or two.


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